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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099449">sonder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypegirl/pseuds/hypegirl'>hypegirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boba, Chenle is an Icon, Crack, Extreme Bottom Energy, First Meeting, Light Angst, Lofi, M/M, Meet-Cute, Non-Linear Narrative, Past johnten, Protective Older Brothers, Romanticism, Slice of Life, Tattoos, but it’s mostly crack, chensung - Freeform, deep hours, low key philosophical, no ones gonna read this, panicked gay shit, rich kids, second-hand embarassment, stress in general, taeten but not really, ten is the ultimate pisces, unbeta’d, wow seriously no one is reading this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:15:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,576</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypegirl/pseuds/hypegirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>n.  the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own— painted by unique beliefs, worries, memories, and futures, each person working towards their own destinations, and each person both gifted and cursed with the power to change your life.</p><p>Two strangers run into each other on a crowded sidewalk. </p><p>Nothing changes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Lee Taeyong &amp; Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. golden hours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello! i’m back!</p><p>in terms of music, this fic actually works surprisingly well with lo-fi hip hop, i used chilledcow for most of it. </p><p>if you feel like this story really has no true ending or beginning, that’s really the point. </p><p>this is a representation of an everyday occurrence between two characters as well as an insight into their personal lives— which go on long after the timeframe of this story. </p><p>it’s also meant to represent how one event can have drastically different effects on different people.</p><p>really, the only purpose of this story is to show that life isn’t perfect. and yes, it came with a set of deep thoughts. if that isn’t your jam, i won’t be offended if you click off.</p><p>to those of you still here, i hope you enjoy this little two-shit that i’ve lost many a night of sleep over.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TEN </p><p>n. a man surrounded with resources, but with no motivation to use them. in the past, a boy who had his youth taken far too early. dedicating himself to waiting for a change, hoping for a distraction from a never ending cycle that is his life, but failing to find comfort in the constant.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten was sick of having everything. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was comforting at first, knowing that he’d never need to work a day in his life and could still be better off that 99% of the population. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But a life of not doing anything and cruising through each day without a care in the world quickly grew boring. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Especially for Ten, who always had to be doing </span> <span class="s2">something, or he felt useless.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt it was invalidating, to sit around all day, with nothing to do, surrounded by riches but making no action to use them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Having money suddenly made you an object to be reported on, criticized and praised by people who had never once spoken to you.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Ten was almost completely sure that the tabloids had forgotten about him at this point, choosing another unfortunate soul to target with their vicious lies following his not-so-recent-escape, the location of which he’d decided by chucking a dart at the map he’d kept on his wall. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That fateful day, he’d packed his bags and sped off to Seoul before the sun had set.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now, four years later, Ten sat alone in his palace of an apartment, all sharp edges and thin glass. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hated it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hated being born with riches to his name, he hated the glances he got from random people on the street, he hated the feeling of being nothing more than a walking, talking, symbol of fortune. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But today, most of all, Ten hated being short. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was not something he’d had too much of a problem with before. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d grown accustomed to having his tree of a boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend— around to help him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That didn’t seem to be the case anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like most things in Ten’s life, that had ended. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It would only be a matter of time before the heartbreak kicked in, but for now, Ten needed to reach the teabags on the top shelf. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d always had delayed reactions to things, whether it be the anger over his lack of privacy, the thrill of running away, and now, the devastation of the only constant thing in his life being destroyed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Consequently, following the manifestation of his previously subdued feelings, Ten tended to launch himself into the reinvention stage. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the past, this had consisted from everything to new piercings, a new home, new cars, and most recently, a new boyfriend. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">As horrible as it sounded, these additions to his life had really just been distractions for Ten, mere </span> <span class="s2">things</span> <span class="s1"> to make him feel like something he wasn’t.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still, as Ten climbed onto his counter, snapping out of his thoughts as Spotify deciding now would be a good time to blare some rap song that had to be at least a decade old, the fact remained: even an added three inches of height could have prevented at least some of Ten’s grief. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soon enough, Ten tumbled off the counter, still managing to look graceful as he landed in a heap on his kitchen floor. He lied on his back with no plans to move in the near future. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was when the depression kicked in.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a gradual thing, creeping into Ten’s mind almost gently, until it built itself up so far that it took control of him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was something poetic about it, the slow internal turmoil building up in such a peaceful way.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A stream of light from a nearby window spilled onto the linoleum floor, casting a golden stripe directly over Ten’s eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He squinted, but didn’t budge. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Let him suffer.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alright, maybe Ten was a bit dramatic.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe more than a little dramatic. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In reality, if he was to take a step back and just look into his kitchen for a moment, well— </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Short dude with freshly dyed red hair laying on his back in the middle of the floor, squinting because the combination of the sun and the placement of his window was really out to get him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even for Ten, this was a bit much. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In his defense, however, it had been a whole month since Johnny’d up and left, and Ten had continued on with his life as though nothing had happened.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ha, Johnny.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Get yourself a seven-foot-tall American doofus with an affinity for dirty jokes and questionable toppings on pizza. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Actually, don’t, because within a year or so he’ll figure out what kind of a miserable psychopath you really are and then skedaddle, leaving you sitting alone on your floor with one thought and one thought only:</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What am I gonna do with all this pizza? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Don’t seem so surprised; the whole point was that you were a miserable psychopath. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nevertheless, the story went that Ten had went on with little to no grief for weeks on end, always preparing for some random wave of depression to hit him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it had never come. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then it did, one fine Saturday around noon, with no warning whatsoever, hitting so hard that Ten had literally been thrown onto his floor by the weight of his emotions.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or at least, that was how Ten thought of it. It sounded a lot nicer than ‘my short ass fell off the kitchen counter because we stupid’. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The fact that the day had just been so beautiful so far was like a kick in the side when he was already down (pun semi-intended), mostly because it seemed like the world was mocking him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The gods were all like ‘hey look this rich gay dude’s not gonna do so great today let’s just create the best weather possible so he can suffer’. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Okay, well, we know that that’s not what actually happened because the world doesn’t revolve around Ten.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Never had. Never will. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was okay, because Ten, like everyone else, was an insignificant speck on the surface of a tiny planet in a small solar system in an ordinary galaxy that was almost as insignificant as him in the grand scheme of the entire universe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Same as everyone else. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was the train of thought that all of Ten’s marvelous delayed reactions ultimately led to; the idea of being merely a meaningless being usually sending him hurtling straight into the dreaded reinvention phase. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was how the tattoo happened. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was small, written in typewriter font against the pale skin of Ten’s wrist. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">‘find a cause for the insignificant speck’</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now that Ten thought about it, everything from the placement to the font seemed like something straight out of a wattpad fanfiction: a soulmate mark. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bro, no, don’t laugh. Ten’s in his deep hours. This is how he copes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wondered what life would be like if your soulmate was actually revealed to you by a sentence etched into your skin.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It would be easier, maybe.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But then Ten got to thinking about the poor sentimental sap who’d tell the girl he liked, as the first thing he’d said to her, to ‘find a cause for the insignificant speck’, only to see his very words on her skin. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damn. Ten should be a fanfic writer, or something. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not that he’d be very good at straight relationships.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or any relationships, really. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He paused his thinking to take a deep breath.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For anyone who doesn’t know, wallowing is an exhausting business. Your brain gets so over-exerted that you slowly start shutting down, going into low power mode or something. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And everyone knows, there’s only one cure for that kind of fatigue.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bubble tea. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten was not prepared for the onset of the reinvention phase. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Honestly, a change was the last thing he needed right now. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So, quickly standing up from the kitchen floor, he decided he’d settle back into his usual schedule. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Walk to the tiny boba place a couple of blocks away, say an awkward hello to the girl with the sandy hair behind the counter, order his usual, and get on with his day. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten had actually taken about two steps away from his apartment building when he felt it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something wasn’t right.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The air was like, clear and shit? There were birds singing, like..</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Since when did this place have birds? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">And even though the city was basically just an expanse of glass windows and skyscrapers, everything was suddenly just so </span> <span class="s2">pretty</span> <span class="s1">, and Ten had literally no idea why.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe it had always been like this, and Ten had been too preoccupied to notice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten walked in silence, letting the sounds of the city fill his ears, turning corners almost automatically and even going as far as to smile at strangers, who probably thought he was insane or something. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt low-key insane, but we don’t talk about that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But overall, it all seemed pretty normal. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten walked downtown, noticing how the sun reflecting off of the sides of tall buildings bathed the city, as far as he could see, in an almost-artificial golden glow. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It seemed like the kind of day Johnny would have particularly enjoyed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s something crazy about the human psyche. One thought can push you off your path and send you reeling. And just as quickly, one word can have you believe that you might be ok. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Unfortunately, this happened to be a thought that completely threw Ten off. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like, literally.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He barely paid attention to his shoe snagging on a slightly raised sidewalk tile, and he even went and tripped, so gracefully, probably to fall straight into incoming traffic.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not a good way to go. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For Ten, someone who was naturally clumsy but managed to make all of his screwups look intentional, this was an all time low. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But before he could process that, he heard a quiet ‘oh, fuck’ and somebody grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back onto the sidewalk, but twisting his foot to an impossible angle in the process.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And here was the kicker. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For some goddamn reason, the weird part of Ten’s brain (read: all of it) decided now would be a good time to have him blurt, “That hurt like a buttcheek on a stick.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His only consolation was in the fact that it came out uncharacteristically quiet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, what was that?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Just like the King of Delayed Reactions to realize, only now, that there was a whole </span> <span class="s2">person</span> <span class="s1"> standing there, still gripping at his shoulders. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like, yeah, duh, there was someone there, but like.. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten’s gaze traveled from the ghostly white hand on his right side, up a white shirt sleeve, and then to the guy’s face, and—</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">damn, did ten feel ugly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? Me? Yeah, I’m okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was the most coherent response that Ten could manage, because everything from the guy’s lowkey angelic face to his faded lavender hair whipping gently in the wind had Ten thinking</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*family friendly content blocker!*</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thoughts.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just another reminder that Ten was not a Normal Person.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Normal People do not usually walk straight into strangers on the street and then start seriously considering whether they would want to be the stranger or fuck them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The guy smiled hesitantly, and something about him looked so familiar that Ten couldn’t help but ask, “Have I seen you somewhere before?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Technically, he could have helped it, he just felt like making conversation... Which was very unlike him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” He replied shortly. He was quite curt, and slightly on edge. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten nodded, watching as the guy quickly realized that he still was holding on to his shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/>He backed up quickly, clasping his hands together. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what’s up with me today. Ha, you don’t need to know that, I’m just gonna.. let you keep going.” He scrunched up his nose, obviously not satisfied with the way he sounded, but nodded once to himself before uttering another ‘sorry’ and rushing off before Ten could reply. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And just like that, the same city Ten had known for so long came rushing back.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Someone ran straight into him from behind, someone else was honking their horn like a maniac, and a couple of girls nearby had almost fainted when yet another strangely familiar looking dude walked by.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yep, this was Seoul alright. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And maybe, at the end of the day, Ten came away with a cup of bubble tea in one hand, and a tiny tattoo on his other wrist. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In an angular font, surrounded by tiny flowers, were two words.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Keep going.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the city was once again bathed in a soft, warm golden light. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had a feeling that wasn’t going to change for a while. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. a faraway kind of bliss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TAEYONG</p><p>n. still a child at heart, not ready for the effects of his never ending compassion. a man who has spent his life running, both towards and away from the inevitable. the kind of tired that sleep can’t help, but has mastered the art of faking the kind of happiness that he can only dream of.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: mentions of anxiety</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Normal days were hard to come by.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In all honestly, it all really started when Jisung brought a boy home. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Actually, no, we’re gonna need to rewind a bit more. Maybe a couple years, just to set things up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong’s story really began when he was a college freshman, just trying to get by and graduate at some point in the next four years. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And there was the whole situation of needing money quite desperately, because his parents- well, that’s another story. Suffice it to say they weren’t really in the picture anymore, and Taeyong was left pretty much alone in the universe at the ripe old age of 19. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But hey, it was okay. He’d always been a pretty optimistic kid. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now, on that fateful day, all Taeyong really knew was that he needed to get home as fast as humanly possible, because </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">a) he needed to study for three tests</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">b) had two projects due in the next week</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">c) may or may not have had people coming over, but he was never really good at remembering shit like that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And so, the poor boy ended up sprinting to his car as soon as his class ended, and was halfway home (way above the speed limit), when it happened. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong saw something in his rear view mirror, but passed it off as sleep deprivation. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It became clear that that couldn’t be the case when he heard something that sounded suspiciously like, “damn, hyung, you’re really handsome.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong nearly crashed the car. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Okay, okay, let’s fast forward a bit. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well, Taeyong found a little boy, no older than 12 or so, half asleep in the back of his car. After a couple of months of pure confusion, endless phone calls, and a few run-ins with the law, Taeyong found that he had himself a younger brother. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was all very complex; and even now, five years later, Taeyong still didn’t really understand it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What he did understand was that Jisung Park was a goddamned handful. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Don’t get him wrong, the kid never got into trouble, got good grades, and was on track for success, or whatever his teachers had said. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The main problem was he was just so fucking </span>
  <span class="s2">emotional</span>
  <span class="s1">, and Taeyong honestly had no idea what to do with a crying teenager. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Also, he didn’t really have friends. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But hey, they’d turned out okay. Ish. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now, one fine day, Taeyong had just come back home from work when he a heard a slightly unsettling screeching noise— coming from </span>
  <span class="s2">his apartment.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That man ran like his life depended on it, probably because he thought it did. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But, haha, it was fine, because once he opened the door and went in it sounded a lot more like laughing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jisung, what did I tell you about—“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ah, so much for calm. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A small boy with mint green hair popped out from nowhere, a bright smile spreading across his face as he noticed a lowkey petrified Taeyong standing in the corridor. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ay, Jisung!” He screeched, and Taeyong was fairly sure he’d gone deaf in his left ear. “Your brother’s better looking than you are!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">wot</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It seemed that was all Taeyong was going to get in terms of acknowledgement, until he heard Jisung screaming from his room in response, and damn if that wasn’t the loudest he’d ever heard him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You dumbass, you can’t just say stuff like that and—“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The smaller boy cackled as Jisung emerged from the hallway with his hair standing in every direction. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bruh, did you electrocute yourself or something?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I mean, well.. Technically..” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi.” Taeyong cleared his throat awkwardly, not having moved from the corridor since he stepped in. “I- I’m sorry, but.. Who are you?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The green haired boy smiled at this, for some odd reason. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, this is, uh, Chenle.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chenle waved semi-awkwardly. “Wait, that’s all I get?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Taeyong and Jisung chorused. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“All I get, is ‘uh, Chenle’?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong had to admit that this Chenle kid did an undeniably good Jisung impression. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, what were you expecting?” Jisung was trying desperately to hide a smile and Taeyong was kinda scared by how happy he seemed. Not that, like, he didn’t want that or anything, it was just kind of weird.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was all kind of weird.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No ‘this is Zhong Chenle, the ketchup to my mustard, pepper to my salt, the milk to my cheetos—‘“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong snorted a lot louder than he thought. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jisung only shrugged in reply. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘—the only dude I’m allowed to kiss while still being straight—‘“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?!?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.” Chenle cleared his throat, still grinning at the frozen pair. “I </span>
  <span class="s2">meant</span>
  <span class="s1">, ‘the love of my li—‘“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jisung clapped a hand over Chenle’s mouth, casting a nervous smile at Taeyong. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t pay any attention to him. On an extremely unrelated note, is it gay to kiss the homies?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong blinked. “...Well, yes, in my experience.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The pair fell silent. It could have been Taeyong overthinking, as usual, but there seemed to be some.. </span>
  <span class="s2">tension</span>
  <span class="s1">. Discomfort, maybe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just, gonna, uh, go.” Taeyong blurted, afraid of how he was reading the situation,ran out of there before the maternal instincts could kick in.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was too weird, too alien, too complicated for Taeyong to comprehend. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then again, most things relating to the that thing were complicated. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong speed walked down the street, honestly having no idea where he was going, but just needing to get away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alright, let’s take a second to clear things up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong worked in a goddamn coffee shop, but it never seemed to have had any fanfiction-like effects on him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s a nice way of saying that Taeyong has never been in love, or even gone anywhere close to the there that thing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yeah, most people tended to say ‘what? why? but you’re so handsome!’</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s all well and good, but like...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Most people attracted to Taeyong because of his looks were creeps. Not even gonna lie, just gonna say it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The real problem was that Taeyong was a very panicky dude. Just take that whole debacle with Chenle, he just up and left. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which, in hindsight was a stupid decision. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he trusted Jisung and everything.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hopefully that wasn’t a stupid decision. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong had a lot to think about, but instead his bitchass was just running away from his problems as usual. Talk about being the very ungoodest older brother.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And just being a horrible person overall, when he walked straight into someone and didn’t bat an eye until the poor guy nearly fell into the street. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, shit.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tried his best to catch the dude, but being a whole twig, stumbled a bit. The guy muttered something under his breath, which only worried Taeyong more. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, what was that?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The guy nearly jumped, slowly looking up, and well—</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taeyong could feel his brain fizzling out like a computer that someone had just spilled coffee on. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” He managed, trying not to combust, or something.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? Me? Yeah, I’m okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">taeyong.exe has stopped functioning </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have I seen you somewhere before?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alright, message received, enough computer jokes; but seriously, this is when Taeyong </span>
  <span class="s2">actually</span>
  <span class="s1"> started glitching. No joke, his mind was all filled with colors and shapes and static and so much sudden and utter ungoodness that he seriously considered leaping off of the nearest cliff. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” He answered, too fast, too sure, and he saw the stranger’s face fall ever so slightly, for whatever reason. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh god, he still had his hands by the guy’s side and was standing way too close and ahHhgfvjj? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thus began the most Taeyong monologue he ever heard.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what’s up with me today. Ha, you don’t need to know that, I’m just gonna.. let you keep going.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was the most disgusting thing he’d ever allowed himself to say. He scrunched up his face in true Jisung fashion, and realizing that made him think of Jisung which made him think of Chenle which made him almost break down all over again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” He whispered, feeling his thoughts grow more and more distant and his lips go dry, running away yet again, because it seemed that was what he did back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked back, and saw the stranger still standing frozen in the sidewalk. He hadn’t even asked for a name, and it had been a long time since anyone had so easily made him go haywire like that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that was a selfish concern. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Taeyong finally returned home, he forced a smile towards Chenle, hoping that it would soon grow more natural. He wrapped Jisung in a tight hug, willing him to stop growing, willing time to just slow down for a second and leave him even a moment to breathe.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knew that would never happen.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was alright. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything would be alright. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i’d like to end by letting you guys know that i have orphaned many of my works. i have one request of you guys, please do not go looking for them, or search up my pseud because my dumbass left a copy of my pseud on. </p><p>i am honestly quite embarrassed of these works, but i’m too sentimental to delete them.</p><p>if you like my writing, i’d always recommend the other works that i still have under my name, for they are exponentially better.<br/> <br/>thank you so much for reading, and stay safe and healthy in these scary times &lt;3</p><p>(pls talk to me on <a href="https://instagram.com/dear.__.dream?igshid=16hz0xg0t0p70">instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/rmstzngn">twitter</a>.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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